The End of the World

An Acquired Taste

Monday, February 27, 2006

Chew on This...

You know how some days the words just seem to flow like magic from your mind down onto the blog? Today isn't one of those days for me. So while we wait for something of substance, go ahead and look at these pictures that g_s wanted me to post. ENJOY!!! *click on the pics for a better look*

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Pullin an All-Nighter

Don't ya just hate it when your minds moving in a hundred different directions and you just can't sleep? That was last night for me. Usually my mind is content to merely idle along in neutral but for some reason (I have a good idea about the reason too) the damn thing was stuck in overdrive and try as I might, I just couldn't talk the sandman into doing his job. Lazy bum...

I tried almost all of my "can't sleep" techniques: roll over repeatedly, get a glass of water, walk around the house for a bit, check out g_s' blog. Nothing helped. So when I rolled over and watched the clock ding 1:30, I went to the second to last resort. A couple healthy drams of whiskey. This did help a bit. I was out until the bright and shiny hour of 4:30, at which point the Pendleton must have quit with the queen contest and let the roundup kick back up into full swing.

Suffice it to say today's going to be a mostly unproductive one, if I've got any say in the matter, which I doubt I will. These kind of days usually are the ones that require the most effort. Everything seems to go right when you're well rested, but when you're rummy, you can't catch a break and the hours stretch past dark.

So what are some of your "can't sleep" techniques? I might just have need for them again one day.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

So You Want To Be A Cowboy...

I got up this morning and went through my usual routine, but as I was leaving the house, I noticed a cow not too far away that was in labor. I didn't know when she started so I decided to let her have a few more minutes to calve naturally, and went up to my folks and ate breakfast and fed some cattle up there.

Dad and I came back down here to see what was up with the cow, and that's when you could tell that it was going to require our assistance. So we jumped on the 4-wheelers because they were here, and tried to get her into the corral. Once we got close enough, we could also tell she too was a first timer, and it was also obvious that the calf was beyond saving. That means he was already dead.

We couldn't get her into the corral, and as I jumped off the bike to head her off, she lowered her head and tried to run me over. Because the calf was already dead, there was really no reason to get her in the corral except to catch her so we could finish pulling the corpse out. But now that she decided to put her forehead on my belly button, I could catch her without the use of the corral. See how fortunate that was?

Truth be told, I was slightly out of position, and she wound up on my left side so it wouldn't be a traditional bulldogging, but I grabbed her head anyway, and took her down. Then I kept holding her down while dad went back and got the calf pulling stuff.

When he got back we switched places and I pulled the little bugger out. Sad really. One of his front legs had gotten hung up slightly and that had wedged him in to the point that he couldn't come out. All I had to do is just pull a little bit on the leg and he came right out. But for a couple inches everything would have been allright. As it is, one more in the loss column.

If it seems like there's a lot of death and problems, welcome to the cow business. Most ranchers figure on a 10% death loss. Think about that. That means for every 9 live births you plan on losing 1. If you come in under that figure, you're above average, and you make a little more. The sad thing that you end up realizing is that some are just destined to die. No matter how much you care for them or how careful you are, they are going to die.

Now the crows and coyotes like this arrangement, but me... not so much. However that's just life in these here parts.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

It's Deja Vu All Over Again...

Yesterday we were out feeding our cattle like we usually do and we happened to see one off in the distance who was definately in labor. (erm... something's definately familiar here.)

Anyway... there she was with her tail in the air, and a foot sticking out of the place where feet usually stick out when this sort of thing occurs. So we went home and ate lunch, giving her plenty of time to complete her task. After a couple hours, we came back to check on her progress, and there she was, foot still sticking out. Not a lot of progress and that can mean only one thing. Trouble. So we take a closer look and can tell that she's a first timer. The other glaring oddity is that the foot was upside down, which means even more trouble. Because that means that the calf was backwards, also known as breech.

The biggest trouble with a breech birth, is that things aren't designed to work like that. I've been told that the calf only starts to breathe once the umbilical cord is severed. Usually, they come out head first, so when the cord tears they already have access to the air outside. When they're breech, their head is still inside the body cavity when the cord tears. Unfortunately, that means they can inhale a bunch of amniotic fluid and drown. ( I swear, it seems like I've made this post before.)

Well to make a short story long... we went out and got the heifer, brought her up to the corral, and then I went elbow deep in her to get ahold of the feet, put the OB chains on 'em, and pulled the little sucker out as fast as I could with the calf puller. (Ahhhh! Now I remember!)

An update since we last spoke of this... the last heifer was injured internally in our last little tale and though she tried her best, she died two days later, but the calf lived and we've been feeding him with a bottle.

This time, the calf came out dead. Sometimes the strain of birth is just too much, especially if it's backwards. The good news? I've now got a calf without a cow, and a cow without a calf, so we put them together last night and are hoping for the best...

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

I Smell Sex and Candy...

Erm... but due to a gloriously lacking olfactory sense, I suppose that in my case it should be "at least I've got candy", except that doesn't quite have the same ring to it on valentines day. But it does start me thinking...

What is it about such songs as that one, that makes it stick in your mind? Is it the simple tune? Is it the lyrics? A combination of both? Or the voice of the singer that blends it all together and makes it musical?

Sex and Candy LyricsHangin' round downtown by myselfAnd I had so much timeTo sit and think about myselfAnd then there she wasLike double cherry pieYeah there she wasLike disco superflyI smell sex and candy hereWho's that lounging in my chairWho's that casting devious staresIn my directionMama this surely is a dream

Hangin' round downtown by myselfAnd I had too much caffeineAnd I was thinkin' 'bout myselfAnd then there she wasIn platform double suedeYeah there she wasLike disco lemonadeI smell sex and candy hereWho's that lounging in my chairWho's that casting devious staresIn my directionMama this surely is a dreamMama this surely is a dreamI smell sex and candy hereWho's that lounging in my chairWho's that casting devious staresIn my directionMama this surely is a dreamMama this surely is a dreamYeah mama this must be my dream

Ok... I think it's safe to say it's not the lyrics. So is it the music?While that doesn't translate well from the original to midi, it does have more impact than the words alone. But it's still lacking that little something that makes it burrow its way into your brain to stay. Does that mean that it has to be sung to truly be appreciated?

Friday, February 10, 2006

The Crush

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I live somewhat in the sticks. Now, growing up, we were subject to the same thing that most folks my age were... network TV. By this I mean the big 3. Now our big three was more like the big 2 because ABC was too snowy to actually see, so that meant CBS and NBC were the only games in town. Of course that meant that we spent a lot of time outside playing, so it wasn't exactly a bad thing, but I digress.

Anyway... I moved into my current residence in 2002 and purchased Dish Network. A step up, to be sure. My folks have never made the upgrade. They're content to glean that which freely traverses the airwaves. And they don't quite grasp the fact that I don't have exactly the same channels they do, even though I've explained it to them. I often get a phone call, "Are you watching channel 7?" "No mom. I don't get your channel 7. I've already explained that to you." "Oh... right. " Then a few days later the same thing.

A couple Fridays ago, I was up to my folks place in the morning, as usual, and out of nowhere I get this question. "What do you know about Stacy Keibler?" Now, I know who she is, and that she's been dancing on ABC, and a few more tidbits, so I told mom a few things and asked... "Why?" "I think she's so sweet. You really should date her." For some of you, this might come as a bit of a shock. Not to me. As I've told you in a previous post, everyone seems to think I need to be hitched, and mom's not really the exception, she's the rule.

If I've heard it once, I've heard it at least two times, "Why don't you ask *insert any girls name here* out?" When I ignore the question, she has in the past taken it upon herself to fix me up. One time, she called up Miss Idaho and asked her out for my birthday present. I wasn't amused. I wasn't surprised either, and I did end up going on the date, in case you were wondering. So when she said that I needed to go out with Stacy, it didn't even phase me. She went on and on about how sweet she was, and that she thought Stacy was just darling. What could I say to that? I just shrugged and went on with the day.

Later that evening, my brother and his family came down from Boise, so I went up to see them. While we were there, on the TV is the results show for Dancing with the Stars. Of course, mom was watching. I told my bro that mom had a crush on Stacy. She claimed that she didn't have a crush and then went back into how sweet she was and that I should date her. He just laughed.

Now I know what all of you are thinking... there's no way in hell that would ever happen. I'm way too good for someone like her, and there's no way I should lower myself to that level, just to date her. But you all shouldn't be so hasty. I'm sure she's got some very redeeming features, and I probably should give her the benefit of the doubt, or at the very least... an honest appraisal.

As with any investment of this sort, one has to examine the pros and the cons. If there happen to be more pros than cons, then one might actually consider investing. But where do we go to get an honest set of facts? Hmmm... how about IMDB. Seems fair.

Pros:Looks... she is lovely.Age... 26? Not too old, not too young.Height... 5'11" Oooo... tall girl.Measurements... erm... uh... whoa..."Her famous legs are 42 inches long." ... that explains the height...Hmmm... it appears she's still single, I guess that would fall into the pros."Has twice turned down offers to pose for Playboy Magazine." Hmmm..."Favorite WWE Diva is Torrie Wilson." Ahhh... she likes Idahoans."It doesent bother me if my boyfriend gets a lap dance when I'm there. I'm secure with myself so whats the big deal?" ........ I'm speechless.

Cons:Lives in Baltimore. -- A bit of a commute."Has no siblings." Hmmm... meh... not much of a con, but we'll put it here anyway."I don't like guys who look like they're going to bust out of their shirts. I don't want them to be too big - you can't get your arms around them". Hmmm... genetics thou art a fiendish companion...Someone that looks like that definately has plenty of suitors...

So... looking at my trusty abacus I see we've got 9 in the plus column, 4 in the minus, for an overall investment score of +5. Looks like a decent investment, with plenty of potential for the future. Hmmm... perhaps you all were a bit too hasty... :ewink:

Thursday, February 09, 2006

What's the Worst That Could Happen...

Well... trinamick's (I'd put a link, but you all know who she is anyway) last comment is completely responsible for this one...

What comment you may ask? "And there's nothing quite as disgusting as a prolapse" would be the one. For those of you who don't know, and I'm guessing that means 99% of you, a prolapse occurs due to the strain of birth in cattle. And there are two different kinds of prolapse. One is called a vaginal prolapse, the other, a uterine prolapse.

For those of you preparing to eat something right about now... I'd wait to eat, or put off reading this post for a while to give it a chance to digest. But for those of you that like to rubberneck at car wrecks, keep right on reading.

The vaginal prolapse is merely where the bladder... let me go back a minute. You see, in it's essence, the cow's koochie is really not much more than a large tube sock type affair that happens to be made out of flesh. Once you understand that concept, you can visualize the difference between the two types. The vaginal prolapse is where the bladder pulls loose from it's moorings and winds up poking out the back end of a cow through their vaginal opening. The main problem with this is that the extruding bladder basically pinches off the pee tube (techincal term there, ask a vet if you don't understand) and the bladder can't drain. This leads to kidney failure and death. It looks like an inside out sock. Of course that sock is about the size of a football and stinks like... like... like a prolapse. A combination of stale urine and dried feces. If you really need to know, go smell g_s' underwear sometime. I'm sure there will be more than a slight similarity... (I kid, I kid)

How can I put this delicately... hmmm... the thing about these types of prolapse is that the "sock" isn't completely inside out, it's just like half way. Kinda like when you grab the top and pull it down from your calf to your ankle. Most of the sock is still the right way, it's just the end that's a bit off... Ok... when this happens, you have to squeeze the "juice" from the bladder and push it all back in. Unfortunately, they push it right back out again, so you end up sewing them up so that it won't come back out and heals up while on the inside.

The OTHER kind is the uterine prolapse. That's where the entire sock is inside out. I've only seen 2 cows survive this operation. The main uterine artery is very exposed and if things just don't go perfectly it gets ruptured and they bleed out internally within seconds. This is about the size of... well... it probably wouldn't fit in the trunk of Michele's new car. It's big and ungainly, and very fragile. With these, you've got to gently squeeze it back in while holding it in there. At least a two man operation, and by the time you get done your arms ache from holding onto this 100 pound blob for an extended period of time.

I suppose now you all can see why KTM said "And there's nothing quite as disgusting as a prolapse". Of course I've now got to tell you about what is actually more disgusting than that. Blame her, not me... :P

Animals get cancer just like humans do. The main difference is that we don't operate on most of the tumors like they do in humans. The one that does get the operation is when the cancer is in the eyeball. We call those cancer eyes, and you can cut those out and usually save the cow.

I'm sure you've all had a thorn or sticker caught in your sock before and had to stop and pick it out because of the irritation. Cows can't do that. Occasionally, they get a sticker in their eye and it sits there and festers until it turns cancerous. If you catch it early enough, you can save the cow. If you don't, the cancer spreads into the bone and they eventually die when it eats their brain away. Of course it's not quick, or painless, and it stinks. Imagine a large watermellon sized open sore that stinks like rotting flesh while it drips and drains blood, puss, and other nasty things (How's that gag reflex doing KTM?). Not pleasant and you can smell them from 100's of yards away.

So one time, we have this cow in the squeeze chute so that we can remove her eye. We've got her head tied up so she can't flop around and hurt us, about all she can do is groan. Now when you start this task, you deaden the eye with lidocane, the same thing your dentist uses. And there's really no good way to do it other than stick a 6 inch needle in behind the eyeball and deaden the nerves. That's the easy part. Then you've got to actually cut the eye from it's socket and sew the hole closed. They bleed terribly during the process. It's by far-- THE. MOST. GREUSOME. THING. That we have to do.

So we're removing this eye, and just by chance an alfalfa seed salesman drops by with some alfalfa for us. He's an older fellow, probably 75+ at the time, and he sees us out there so he walks out. He can't really tell what exactly is going on until he get's within 30 feet. "Oh, man..." he groans and turns his head. "Hey Lynn... How ya doin?" "Well, I was pretty good..."

For the next half hour or so, he looks away for as long as he can, then he just can't help himself and he's got to turn back and look at it. "Oh, gad... that's gotta hurt," he says, and looks away for about 30 seconds. But it's too tempting, and before it's all done he's right there watching every step. I thought he was doing really good until we flipped the eyeball over to the side and the dog grabbed it and took off with it like a prize porterhouse. It was at that point that he decided to just unload the seed and leave.

So the next time you hear anyone say, "Nothing's worse than...", you'll all know better.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

'Tis the Season

Yep... that's right. It happens every year about this time. All the girls are out there just waiting for the time when that little package arrives. Sometimes it's a midnight surprise, other times early in the morning, but it can happen almost any time of the day.

To the more seasoned, it's no big deal, but to the young it can come as quite a surprise. And sometimes, even with the best planning, things go awry. That's where I come in. I'm in charge of aiding in the delivery, and making sure that things go as well as possible. Today was one of those days.

Today we were out feeding our cattle like we usually do and we happened to see one off in the distance who was definately in labor. What? You thought I was involved in something like Valentines day? Get real.

Anyway... there she was with her tail in the air, and a couple of feet sticking out of the place where feet usually stick out when this sort of thing occurs. So we went home and ate lunch, giving her plenty of time to complete her task. After a couple hours, we came back to check on her progress, and there she was, feet still sticking out. Not a lot of progress and that can mean only one thing. Trouble. So we take a closer look and can tell that she's a first timer. The other glaring oddity is that the feet were upside down, which means even more trouble. Because that means that the calf was backwards, also known as breech.

The biggest trouble with a breech birth, is that things aren't designed to work like that. I've been told that the calf only starts to breathe once the umbilical cord is severed. Usually, they come out head first, so when the cord tears they already have access to the air outside. When they're breech, their head is still inside the body cavity when the cord tears. Unfortunately, that means they can inhale a bunch of amniotic fluid and drown.

Well to make a short story long... we went out and got the heifer, brought her up to the corral, and then I went elbow deep in her to get ahold of the feet, put the OB chains on 'em, and pulled the little sucker out as fast as I could with the calf puller.

The good news? The little guy came out alive, and last I saw them, both mother and baby calf were still alive. The rest is yet to be determined.------------------------------------------------------------

Friday, February 03, 2006

The Tragedy of the Lottery

PinTA's most recent post prompted me to write my thoughts on the matter of winning the lottery.

Winning a large sum like the lottery offers is something that I used to desire quite a bit. But the more I thought about it, it began to dawn upon me just exactly what a real tragedy winning it would be. This has caused me no shortage of grief, and my desire has faded accordingly. Instead of rating 9 out of 10 like it used to on the desire scale, it's dropped down to a mere 8.9 .

Lest you think I'm off my rocker, I present for you now, the tragedy of the lottery.

Since I live in a State that offers the Powerball, I've seen the jackpots get as high as 300 mil, and I've also witnessed the lottery folk weaseling their way out of paying much more. Oh yes, you see the folks that run this little numbers game like to make out like more than mere bandits. Since I started on this little rabbit trail, I guess I'll go ahead and finish it out. A few years back, when the jackpots got to around 150 mil folks would really start to play, and the jackpots would jump due to all the new fundage being thrown in the mix. Sometimes it'd jump as much as 60 million between drawings, and the higher the amount, the more tickets they sold, and the bigger the jackpot jumped. So in their infinite wisdom, they decided that folks were spending waaaay too much on the lottery, so they limited the increase in jackpots to around 30 mil a pop, to "discourage" people from spending so much. Hogwash. People didn't change their buying habits, the lottery folk just pocketed the rest of the coins! So instead of the winner being the benneficiary, now the lottery folk are. Of course if you win 300 million, who's going to listen to you whine that you didn't get your fair share of the purse?

Ok... where were we, oh yes... tragedy. Lets just, for an easy example, say that you won a Powerball jackpot of 200 million. Now you've got the option of taking half of it in a lump sum, or all of it paid out in a 25 year annuity. Since no one knows what tomorrow will bring, you're foolish not to take the lump sum now. A bird in the hand and all that. So immediately, your 200 million drops to 100. Now the lottery folk withhold 25% of that for taxes, but that's not all the taxes that are due, that's just the downpayment so you don't skip the country without giving them something. The top tax bracket is 39.6% for the Federal Income Tax, and my State's top bracket is 7.8% (since we're the most Republican State in the Union, of course). But hold on a minute... the most Republican State couldn't let such a cash cow go without skimming off a few steaks first, so a few years back they instituted a lottery tax on winnings over 250,000 of an additional 8%. So now your 200 million has dropped from 100 million to the 46.6 million that you actually get to take home. That's still not too shabby for you, but in reality, it's less that 25 cents on the dollar.

Now everyone says that they're going to help their friends and family, buy their mom a car or house or something like that. Here's where the real tragedy occurs. If you pay off the debts of another, that is income to them. For example, if you pay off your mom's mortgage of 100,000, she has to show on her income tax return an income of 100,000, and then she owes the taxes on that amount of income. The only thing is, if she'd have had the 30,000 it takes to pay the taxes, she wouldn't have had a 100,000 mortgage in the first place! And that's the tragedy of the lottery.

Your friends and family can't afford to have you help them out! Everything you do to try and be nice to them ends up kicking them in the back of the head. Now they'll all say, "You can just give me enough to pay the taxes too." Like that's some real advantage. Hell, you've already given over 75% to the greedy bastards to begin with, and now you're going to give them more? Sounds like a foolish investment to me...

So now, when I hear stories of lottery winners losing all of their friends and none of their family talks to them, I know why. If you don't help them out, they hate you because you're greedy. If you do help them out, they hate you because you sicked the taxman on 'em. You can't win. Given those two choices, I'd say keep your money and have them hate you for being greedy. If they're only going to hate you in the end, you might as well still have the money. :P

I did figure a way around this little problem, but I'm not sharing that one. I will make you all this deal though, if any of you wins the big one and wants to know what I'd do in your shoes, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement...

Thursday, February 02, 2006

And Now a Word From Our Sponsor

I didn't start this Blog to write a lot, nor to continually complain, but it seems I'm doing both. I'm still not on the pace of a Schprock or KTM, but I'm not quite the slacker of the bunch either. Anyway...

Today I'm here to speak ill of advertisements. Being the TV conneseur that I am, I've been witness to a lot of them over the years, and I understand that not every one can be a classic, but at the same time, I do begin to wonder where the decency has gone.

For instance, last night I'm watching something or other, and there's this commercial on where a whole group of people are splashing and playing in the water in their swimsuits, waving at a cute girl up on the dock who's still in a tank top and cutoffs to join them. The bright background music is clinking out it's sunny tune, and the girl still appears completely hesitant, until finally she just breaks down, rips off her top exposing the bikini, drops the cutoffs, exposing even more... It was at this point, I'm wondering just exactly where this is heading, but alas, I didn't have to wait much longer. She jumps off of the dock into the water with a big splash and the scene immediately cuts away to... TAMPAX PEARL! "Feel safe again" Talk about a bait and switch... yeeesh... Yep, that's exactly the mental image I wanted to go to bed with. The thought of a waterlogged tampon.

I, being of sound mind and body, do realize that there are times in a womans life when the natural cycle of things is at it's worst, and that there are products that seek to insert themselves into peoples minds for just sort of an occasion, but right at the bedtime hour? That's hardly the time of day when most swimming occurs.

And then there are the ones that leave no thought to the imagination. "How's your prostate, Max?" "Gee doc, I dunno. I'm having trouble peein' at night." "That's probably not a good thing Max. Here, let me show you this animation that demonstrates what an enlarged prostate does to the urinary tract." Let's not, and just say we did. Or everyone's favorite, the pepto conga line where they grab their mouth, stomach, and other nether regions to the catchy tune of "...heartburn, upset stomach, diherrea!"

Let's face it, Pepto has been around a long time, do you really think that they even need to advertise? I don't remember seeing any Kaopectate commercials when I was a kid, but I got a chance to drink it when the time arrived. And where were the ones for Merthiolate? Hell, every cut I had mom'd whip out that glass bottle and drive that glass probe into it as deep as she could to "get all the germs out". There weren't any instructions on the bottle, the only instruction we got is "Stop whining, just blow on it until it stops burning..." Unfortunately the pain was enough to take your breath away.

I long for the days of the good old "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz" or "It's good stuff Maynard" commercials. The kind that kept the product in your head, but your lunch in your stomach.*Sigh* I guess I'm quickly turning into an old curmudgeon, but my prostate hasn't enlarged quite yet. When it does, I'll have to ask g_s how he handled it. He once said he had the solution well in hand, but I don't suppose there'll be any commercials depicting his home remedy.

This whole subject has given me an upset stomach... I just wish I knew of a product that would remedy that...

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